


The Final Rose

by Fanforthefics (StormDancer)



Series: Hockey Tumblr Oneshots [7]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reality Show, Alternate Universe- Famous/Not Famous, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-01 09:36:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13995483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormDancer/pseuds/Fanforthefics
Summary: It’s not unusual for them to be away for months—Sid’s away most of the off season, to start—but this time it’s different. Geno’s spent the last few months dating thirty people. Geno’s probably engaged.But when Geno comes out of customs, his bags behind him, there’s no difference in his smile when he catches sight of Sid.





	The Final Rose

**Author's Note:**

> For the SidGeno fluff-fest prompt: proposal. Because why write established relationship when you can write a 10k Bachelor AU?
> 
> A great debt of inspiration for this fic is due to [ Out of play, out of competition](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5835877/chapters/13449268) by thenorthface.
> 
> Don't know, don't own, entirely fictionalized versions with nothing to do with the actual people, etc. Enjoy!

There are five contestants left, when Geno comes home.

Sid picks him up at the airport. He keeps his hat pulled down over his head, but it doesn’t matter much—Geno’s a bigger celebrity than he is right now, even in Pittsburgh, and if he knows Geno, he won’t be bothering to hide. There’s a reason he decided to go on the show.

But Geno gets in late enough that the terminal is mainly empty, just a few people waiting for the passengers and all of them are busy on their phones or hoping they can go home already. Sid’s guilty of it too; it’s easier to look at his phone and check the West coast game scores than to think of what will happen when Geno gets off the plane. It’s not unusual for them to be away for months—Sid’s away most of the off season, to start—but this time it’s different. Geno’s spent the last few months dating thirty people. Geno’s almost certainly _engaged_.

But when Geno comes out of customs, his bags behind him, there’s no difference in his smile when he catches sight of Sid. “Sid!” He yells, and if Sid had ever hoped for them to stay under the radar, that just went directly down the drain. Sid sighs, but he can’t help smiling too. It’s hard not to, in the face of Geno’s grin.

A few cameras are on them, Sid notices out of the corner of his eyes, but Geno doesn’t care. Geno’s never cared, not when the cameras were on Sid, not now that they’re on him. Instead, he drops his bags, and wraps his arms around Sid, holding him tight.

Sid grabs him back, leans in so that his nose is pressed into Geno’s shoulder, like he has so many times before. He still smells like he always did, that slightly spicy cologne he favors; he doesn’t smell like any of the other people he’s been seeing. Like his fiancée, whoever that is. He smells like Geno and he feels like Geno and he hugs like Geno, all long limbs that feel like they engulf Sid.

“Good to see you too,” Sid mutters, into Geno’s jacket.

Geno shifts, and Sid can feel his head curved against Sid’s hair. “Miss you.”

Sid lets out a breath. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear that. “Missed you too.”

Geno doesn’t let go, and Sid’s not going to, not even for the cameras he can feel still on them.

Even when eventually they do separate, Geno keeps a hand on Sid’s shoulder. His gaze sweeps over Sid, and Sid understands the desperation in that look. It’s been too long since he’s been allowed any contact with Geno. Seeing him on TV just isn’t the same. TV doesn’t capture his easy strength, or the mischief always in his eyes, or his warmth.

“Look good, Sid,” Geno says quietly. “Not too skinny yet.” 

“Well, you weren’t here to make me ruin my meal plan,” Sid retorts. Geno’s still looking at him. He’s _engaged_ , Sid reminds himself, and reaches down to grab one of Geno’s bags. “We should go before someone notices you.”

Geno laughs, loud enough that Sid looks around. People have definitely already noticed him.

“People notice me too, now,” He says, and takes the handle of the other bag. They fall easily into step out of the airport, despite the difference in their strides. “Why you come to get me? Thought papa was.”

“It was late, I wanted to let your parents sleep.”

Geno raises his eyebrows. “Couldn’t wait to see me?”

Sid gives him a sheepish smile. He’s not exactly known for his patience. “It’s been months, Geno,” he replies, half a whine.

Geno laughs again, his eyes a little wide like he hadn’t expected that response. “Could have come to hometown,” he points out. Sid turns to lead them in the direction of his car. He could have. The production team had wanted him, to no one’s surprise; half of Geno’s appeal as a Bachelor was his connection to professional sports and the minor celebrities that could get. Some of the guys had been on an episode, Sid knows; Geno had brought one of the girls to the rink right as a practice was ending. That had been the talk of the locker room, the next day, but Sid had ducked out before Geno had even gotten there. Both the production team and Geno’s parents had even reached out, trying to get him to come to the meet the family meal.

But Sid wasn’t actually a masochist, and he really didn’t want cameras on him anymore than needed, not after the media storm that had been his coming out a few years ago. He couldn’t imagine anything worse than a camera on him as he watched Geno date someone else.

It’s not like he can say that to Geno, though, so he just shrugs. Geno nods. “I know. Privacy, no cameras.” He waves a hand dismissively, but he’s still smiling. “Would have been nice to see you, though. See what you think of dates.”

Sid snorts. “They don’t need my blessing.”

“No, but you’re good judge of character. It would have helped.” They’re at the car now, and Sid opens the trunk automatically so they can both heave Geno’s suitcases into the back. It gives Sid time to figure out an answer, as they split so Sid can get in at the driver’s side and Geno on the passenger.

“I’ll like anyone you choose,” he says.

Geno chuckles. Sid glares at him. It might be more than a little a lie—irrational jealousy he tries to quash aside, there have been plenty of Geno’s girlfriends and boyfriends he didn’t like. But if Geno’s actually engaged, he’ll try.

“Well, who are you engaged to?” he demands, because it’s been long enough.

Geno presses his lips together. “Can’t say. Secret.”

“Seriously?” Geno’s never been able to keep a secret to save his life. That’s doubled when he’s with someone; Geno’s brand of affection tends towards effusive. It makes Sid uncomfortable, sometimes; it’s one of the reasons he never has said anything about how he feels to Geno. He’s not sure how he’d handle that. “It’s not like I’d tell anyone.”

“Sorry, contract.” Geno makes a locking motion in front of his lips. “Can’t tell or I’d be sued!”

Before pulling out of the spot, Sid steals another look at Geno. He’s smirking back at Sid, the smugness countered by something settled and warm. He has to be engaged. That’s how this works.

“Okay, fine.” Sid pulls out of the spot, starts making his way out of the parking garage. “Don’t tell me.”

“Can’t, Sid.” Geno doesn’t look the least bit sorry. “You watching?”

“No.”

“Sid!” Geno sounds horrified but unsurprised. “Why not? I’m watch your games.”

Sid shrugs. “It feels weird.”

“You jealous?” Geno retorts, clearly teasing. “Now you have to share the spotlight.”

That gets a laugh out of Sid. “Yeah no, you can have that. Maybe now you’re home people will stop asking me how you’re doing. Like I’d know.”

“Yeah,” Geno agrees, and turns to look out the window. “Now I’m home.”

When Sid pulls up to Geno’s house, Geno pauses after he’s gotten out of the car, leaning in the open door with a hand on the top of the frame. “Dinner, tomorrow?” He suggests.

Sid raises his eyebrows. “Won’t your parents want you? And aren’t you going to want to sleep for a week?”

“Dinner,” Geno repeats, more firm. “After practice.”

“And don’t you have a vacation to get to?”Sid keeps going. He’s pretty sure he read that somewhere, that they send the Bachelor and his fiancée on a vacation to keep them quiet. “When’s that?”

“I wanted to get back to work,” Geno replies, and then nods. “Dinner. I come over, make for us.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to come over,” Sid retorts. “Maybe I’ve gotten used to cooking for myself.”

Geno laughs, which maybe Sid deserved. “Seven,” he tells Sid, and shuts the door. Sid’s still smiling as he drives away. It had been a long few months, without Geno.

///

Contrary to popular belief—that is, Taylor and Flower—Sid did not actually fall in love with Geno at first sight. Sid maintains he’s not even properly in love with Geno, but even if he _were_ , it didn’t happen at first sight, when the new physio was brought around to meet the team and Sid, all of nineteen and trying to be a responsible captain, had jumped to meet the lanky guy who was basically a kid himself. That had just been friendship, those first years—having someone his age who got hockey but who Sid wasn’t the captain of, who made Sid laugh and only made fun of him nicely. Sure, Geno was hot, Sid had always thought so, but Sid had grown up in locker rooms full of attractive men; that wasn’t an issue.

But then—the concussion had hit, and Sid had been at his lowest, and Geno had been there. Partly because it was his job, Sid knew, but more just because it was Geno, and it was in Geno’s nature to care and protect. Sid honestly doesn’t know if he’d have gotten through those long months without hockey without Geno. And on the other end, when Sid had hit the ice again and Geno had been there clapping and grinning, well. Something had shifted.

It wasn’t love. Sid couldn’t be in love with Geno, because they were best friends and if Geno had been interested in Sid there had been ample opportunity for him to do something. Geno had never been quiet about being bi, about that being a large part of why he’d left Russia. And Sid suspected he’d known that Sid was gay before he’d come out, but even if he hadn’t, Sid’s coming out had been…more of a public event than he’d wanted. So Geno knew there was an chance, and Sid knew Geno. If he thought there was a chance, he’d have gone for it. But he didn’t—instead, he dated men and women and then, apparently on a whim and anger at Russian politics, decided that he was going to be the next Bachelor.

And Sid’s fine with that. He is. He has a career he loves and friends and teammates who love him back and sometimes he does date, if quietly. If he was in love with Geno—things would suck a lot more, he thinks. But he’s not, so it only hurt a little when Geno decided that he would rather date 30 people in front of millions of viewers than look at Sid. 

///

Geno comes into work the next day even though he must be exhausted. It’s the triumphant homecoming of a prodigal son—he’s a lot of the guys’ hero for being on the Bachelor, and even if he can’t say the ending—he can and does still talk about what’s already been shown.

“So, who’s the lucky winner?” Phil asks, as they all suit up for practice. Geno’s leaning against a wall, watching them. He’s enough of their age that he hangs out with the team a lot, and it probably hadn’t hurt that Sid had latched onto him so hard. Geno claims it’s good synergy or something; Sid thinks he likes that it gives him job security. “I don’t see a ring.”

“Not allowed,” Geno protests. “And even if I was, I wouldn’t tell you. All gossips.”

“Hey!” Tanger protests, which is bullshit because Sid knows too well how much of a gossip he is.

Sid must make a noise at that, though, because Tanger turns narrowed eyes to Sid. “Does Sid know?”

“No,” Sid answers. Schultzy ignores him.

“He must know. Come on, tell us. Tell us or I’ll—”

“You’ll what,” Sid snaps back, drawing himself up and raising an eyebrow. “Keep in mind, coach will bag skate you if I say to.”

Schultzy makes a face. “Fine. But you should tell us anyway.”

“Of course he won’t tell you.” Suddenly Tanger’s come up next to Sid, and has thrown an arm over his shoulder. “You’re not trustworthy.” He leans his head in, and says in an audible whisper, “But you’ll tell me, right? That’s what best friends are for.”

Sid laughs, but before he can say anything, Geno’s there, an arm around Sid’s other shoulder and pulling him away from Tanger. “Sid doesn’t know,” he scolds. “And even if he did, you’re not his best friend so he wouldn’t tell you.”

Rather than get in the middle of the tug of war, Sid steps forward, away from them both. “Sidney is going to skate now,” he announces. “You all can talk about the Bachelor on your own time.”

That gets groans, but everyone starts heading out. “Dinner!” Geno calls the reminder down the hall. Sid raises a hand in acknowledgment.

During practice, Tanger circles close to him. “Dinner?” he asks.

Sid shrugs. “I think he missed me.”

“Yeah.” Tanger’s eyes narrow. “You haven’t been watching the show, have you?”

“No. It felt too weird.”

Tanger hums, and doesn’t say anything else. Sidney wonders if he should press him on what that meant, but then coach calls him over and he forgets.

///

Geno shows up on time for dinner, which is enough of a minor miracle that Sid answers the door still pulling on a shirt, his hair still wet from the shower.

“Hey, sorry,” he says, after tugging his shirt down the rest of the way. Geno’s standing at the door with an odd look on his face, like something’s surprising him. “What happened to you?”

“What happened?” Geno echoes. He looks down at himself, then back up. “Nothing?”

“You’re on time,” Sid points out, and steps aside to let Geno in.

“I can be on time!”

Sid raises his eyebrows. The only things Geno’s on time for are games.

“I can,” Geno mutters.

“Stardom really has changed you,” Sid goes on, shaking his head. “Next thing you know, you’ll prefer whiskey to vodka.”

“Don’t be crazy,” Geno retorts. He’s been on a decade long quest to convince Sid that vodka is the best alcohol. Then he glances down at Sid, quick and a little unsure. “You get annoyed when I’m late.”

Sid blinks. Geno’s never cared about that before. “If that was a dealbreaker, I would have let you know ten years ago.”

“Still, I not want to annoy.” Geno looks away from Sid, and only then seems to notice that he’s holding a bottle of wine. “Here.” He shoves it in Sid’s direction. “For you.”

“Um.” Sid takes it. It’s not like Geno’s never brought stuff before—he brings beer over when he’s going to watch a movie, or groceries if he’s going to cook something he doesn’t trust Sid to have the ingredients for—but wine has a different feeling. Sid glances at the label. It’s a pretty nice bottle, too, outside of what he’d usually think of as Geno’s price range. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course. Wine good? Guy at wine store said that it would impress even Mario Lemieux, so I’m think it’s good enough.”

“No, it’s great.” Suddenly, it clicks. “You’re moving.”

“What?”

“Whoever you met, you’re going to live where they live.” It all makes a terrible sort of sense. Sid should have expected it. “That’s what you’re trying to tell me.” Sid swallows, sets his shoulders like he does at a losing game. “That’s—you should be with your fiancée, that’s good, it’s—”

“Sidney!” Geno cuts him off, laughing. That gets Sid’s back up—is Geno seriously laughing at him? “Sidney, no. I’m not moving. You think I’d just leave?” He shakes his head, then reaches out to wrap a hand around Sid’s bicep. “What, go work for some other team?” His face makes it clear what he thinks of that. “What would you do, if you try to play on a broken arm again?”

“My arm wasn’t broken,” Sid points out, but he can feel himself relaxing. Geno isn’t leaving. He can live with anything, as long as Geno isn’t leaving. “It was sprained.”

“There was a hairline fracture,” Geno argues, as he always has. “See? No one else can keep you in line.”

“I keep myself in line.”

Geno snorts. Any of the weirdness before seems to have gone, though; he lets go of Sid’s arm so he can take off his shoes and hang up his coat in the closet. He’s more dressed up than he usually would be to come over to Sid’s, in slacks and a sweater; maybe the show trained him into that too.

“Seriously, though,” Sid has to ask. “Your fiancée—they’re okay with you staying in Pittsburgh?”

Geno pauses with his back to Sid. “Person I’m end up with,” he says slowly, probably trying to make sure he doesn’t accidentally reveal anything in English. “They happy to be in Pittsburgh.”

“Good.” Sid nods. He can forgive a lot, for willingness to stay in Pittsburgh. “Come on, let’s open this.”

He leads the way into the kitchen.

Geno starts cooking immediately, and sets Sid to chopping. Sid actually is a competent cook, even if Geno refuses to believe that, but Geno gets fussy and also has some thing about making sure Sid eats right, and Sid doesn’t mind letting Geno take the lead on this.

They move easily around the kitchen together, like they have for years. It doesn’t really feel any different than when Sid comes back from the off-season; trading stories and life updates and chatting about the prospect for the new season. It’s nice and easy and Sid has missed it so much, and maybe that’s why he drinks a little more wine than he usually does, enough that he can feel himself laughing louder and using his hands more than he would otherwise. He’d hate it, in front of most people, but it’s Geno, so it’s all right. And Geno’s watching him fondly anyway, his own cheeks flushed with wine.

They’re in the living room after dinner, the week’s highlights on low in the background, when the conversation circles back around to the show.

“Was so weird,” Geno explains, “So—everything was very strange.” He’s sprawled on one end of Sidney’s loveseat, his long legs spread out and his arm stretched across the back, almost to where Sidney’s sitting on the other end. It’s a good look on him.

“You knew that going in,” Sid points out. 

“Yes, but not realize just how much. You’d have hated it. Cameras are on you all the time!”

Sidney snorts, and takes a sip of his wine. “And you said I always overreacted.”

“Well, you don’t need to run away completely,” Geno argues. “Sometimes cameras fun.”

“Says the man who chose to be the Bachelor.”

“Yes, well,” Geno agrees. He’s looking oddly at Sidney, an intensity in his eyes that Sid hasn’t really seen before. If Sidney thinks about it too long, especially after this much wine, his head will go someplace he doesn’t want it to, so instead he looks at the screen, where the Bruins are blowing out the Avs.

“And the contestants?” Sidney forces himself to ask, offhand. “Did you like them?”

“Yeah! Well most. They very nice, very interesting.”

“Very hot?” Sid adds, and Geno chuckles ruefully.

“Very hot,” he agrees. Sid looks determinedly at the screen. “Spoiled by hockey asses, though. Hard to be impressed after years with you.”

Sid’s blush, he hopes, will be taken as just more of the wine. He’s been chirped about his ass for years. And he’s not actually a modest person; he knows that of hockey players, he’s considered one of the more attractive. But he also knows the kind of people who go on the Bachelor, and it’s not hockey players with a metal jaw and a body made for use, not aesthetic.

“Are you glad you went on?” he asks. This time, he makes himself look at Geno. Geno’s still watching him, is brow a little furrowed even if his pose is relaxed.

“Yes,” he answers slowly, not looking away from Sid’s face. “Think—could be good.”

“Good.” Sid finds that he means it.

They watch clips of the Habs-Bruins game in easy silence. Then Geno starts again.

“But we talk about me, my dating—what about you? New boy?” he asks, his voice teasing.

Sid laughs before he thinks better of it. “God, no.”

Geno makes the same face he always does when Sid talks about his dating life. “Why not?”

“It used to be people just wanted to see if they could use me to get on TV,” Sid explains. That’s not entirely true—he’d dated some very nice people in the past, and it wasn’t like he was actually famous. But it’s true enough that even after he came out, finding someone became difficult. Those who wanted him for more than money or fame generally didn’t deal well with putting up with his schedule or his routines. “Now they also want to know if I can introduce them to you or one of the contestants.”

“Oh.” Geno presses his lips together. “I’m not want to make things harder for you.”

“Hey.” Sid reaches out with a foot to poke Geno’s thigh. Mostly on instinct, Sid thinks, Geno grabs his ankle so he couldn’t do it again, except now Geno’s got a big hand wrapped around his ankle and that’s not doing good things to Sid’s wine-drunk mind. “No, you didn’t. It was good for you, and that’s what matters. And the only reason guys ask me about it is because it meant a lot to a lot of people, you going on the show.”

Geno still hasn’t let go of Sid’s ankle. If anything, he’s holding on tighter, his thumb rubbing absently at Sid’s skin. Sid has had years of learning how to discipline his body; he can keep his breath steady.

“So if a few guys ask me—that’s fine,” Sid keeps going. It’s better than focusing on where they’re touching. This isn’t unusual, he reminds himself. Geno’s tactile. Maybe not usually this tactile, but it’s been a few months. And he’s _engaged_. “It was a really brave thing for you to do, going on the show, and it was good for you. That’s what matters.”

It came out more like a speech than Sid had expected, echoing at the end a little. But Sid stands by it.

“Sid,” Geno says at last. His voice is a little hoarse. “Really think so?”

“Of course.” Sid doesn’t have to think twice about it.

Geno’s fingers press a little harder on Sid’s ankle. _Engaged_. “Means a lot to me that you think that,” he says softly.

Then he glances up at Sid, and there’s the mischief that’s usually there. “Now you the one people using to get to me! Nice turn around.”

“Yeah well, I’ll be better at it than you,” Sidney retorts. Geno doesn’t give away his phone number or anything, but he’s notorious for inviting friends of his to bars to ‘meet the team.’

“Not my fault you need more friends,” Geno protests, and laughs when Sid yanks his leg away to kick him again. “I’m just telling the truth!”

“I don’t know why I missed you,” Sid tells him, laughing, and Geno grins back.

///

Life settles back into its normal routines, thankfully. There’s hockey to be played and Geno’s back at his job, and everything’s back where it should be.

Geno has been coming over more, it’s true. Sid’s not sure if it’s because he’d missed Sid, or because he’s getting ready for having a fiancée and so less time for Sid, but he’s always proposing things for them to do, time for them to spend together. He drags Sid out to new restaurants he’s heard of, to bars, to the aquarium. He comes over to cook dinner or lunch or just play video games or watch a movie, like he used to during the concussion. It’s weird, but Sid’s not looking a gift horse in the mouth. He’s hoarding it, a little; he knows that soon enough Geno will be able to spend time with his fiancé.

He doesn’t know when Geno has time for it now, honestly. He doesn’t spend any more time on his phone than he’d used to, and Geno likes to stay in contact with people he loves. Sid had expected him to be taking pictures of everything and sending them all to the fiancée.

He tries bringing it up, as they’re leaving a restaurant for dinner about a month after Geno got back. “Are you okay?” he asks, then adds, “Thanks,” when Geno holds the door open for him.

“No, is freezing.” Geno wraps his arms around himself and scowls. “Isn’t it almost spring?”

Sid rolls his eyes and bumps his shoulder companionably against Geno’s. “You got spoiled, all those tropical locations.”

“So nice, Sid!” Geno agrees, his eyes lighting up. “We’ll go, someday—off season, maybe. Show you all the cool places.”

Sid nods. That’s just like Geno—to pretend that he’d rather go with Sid instead of his fiancé. Or that they’d all go together, and Geno not realizing how weird that would be. “Okay,” he agrees, because that’s easiest. He really did have a point, though. “But really—are you okay? It’s got to be tough, being away from your fiancée for so long.”

“Oh.” Geno makes a movement like he’s thinking of rubbing at his hair, but then he’s too cold to move his arms. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“Really? Because if you want, maybe we could find a way…” Sid’s already trying to plan it—they travel a lot with the team, if Geno’s fiancée is in the right area, they might be able to work something out—but then Geno’s laughing and his hand is in Sid’s hair, ruffling it.

“Is fine, Sid. Happy here.”

Sid can’t help smiling at that, even if he shouldn’t. “Well—”

“Oh, wow!” Both Geno and Sid freeze. “Hey, are you Geno? You are!”

Sid manages not to smirk as Geno lets out a long breath and turns to see the three girls in their early twenties standing behind them on the sidewalk. “Hi!” Geno says brightly. “Yes, I am Geno.”

“Oh wow, that’s so cool.” The boldest of them, a short red-head, says, bouncing a little in excitement. “We just wanted—you’ve been a great Bachelor, so far. I hope you’re happy!”

Geno glances to his side, to where Sid’s considering if he can make a polite escape. “Yes, am very happy.”

“Awesome!” another one says. She’s got a Steelers fleece on. “Would you mind—we could get a picture?”

“Of course! Happy to.” Sid edges away further as Geno leans down. “Selfie?”

“Yeah, or, your friend could—”

“Oh shit,” The third girl interrupts. Sid knows how she’s looking at him. He puts on his best fan smile, and gives up on leaving. “You’re—shit. I was at the game yesterday!”

“Yeah?” he says, moving closer. “What did you think?”

“That that was goalie interference and the ref was fucking blind!” she says angrily, which makes Sid laugh for real.

“No argument here,” he agrees. He reaches into his back pocket. The other two girls are talking to Geno about something, but he knows how to do this. “Want me to sign something?”

“Oh, really? That would be—yeah.” She looks down at herself, then hands him her phone. “Just, the back? That would be awesome.”

“Anything for a fan, eh? What’s your name?”

“Tracey,” she says, flushing. Sidney signs it, then looks over to where Geno’s still busy.

“That’s so cool, that you two are—like, I’m glad for you guys he’s back,” she says, following his gaze. “Do you know who won?”

Sid snorts. “He won’t tell me.”

“Oh.” Her eyes go big. “Really?”

“Nope.”

“I…” She trails off, clearly thinking hard and quickly.

“Sid!” Geno interrupts. “Come here. Want picture with all of us.” Sid knows he doesn’t react—he’s always happy to take a picture with fans, even if they’re Geno’s fans—but Geno still rolls his eyes and drags him in by his arm. “Come. No escaping.”

“I wasn’t trying to escape,” Sidney retorts, but lets himself be pressed next to Geno, with the girls around them. Geno takes two and deems one acceptable, then they bid all of them goodbye.

“Why did they want me in their picture?” Sid asks, when they’re gone. Clearly the other two didn’t care who he was, hockey-wise.

Geno shrugs, but he’s not meeting Sid’s eyes. “Know you make picture prettier,” he says, which makes Sid rolls his eyes again. “Come on. Going to freeze before get to car.”

“You’re such a baby,” Sid teases, but lets them hurry up.

///

He asks Tanger about it, at practice the next day. Tanger gives him an odd look. “You still aren’t watching the show, are you?”

“No?” Sid’s not sure how that’s relevant. He’s seen a few episodes of past seasons, here and there; they talk a little bit about home, so maybe he’s come up, but he can’t imagine it’s that much. 

“Maybe you should,” Tanger says enigmatically, and when he refuses to say anything more Sid has to check him and skate away before he can get him back.

///

Sid finds himself counting down to the finale. He’s resisted even being aware of the show, or what episode was airing, but now—now he knows how much time he has until it becomes real. Until Geno really is engaged and his fiancé will come down and probably start living with him and Geno won’t have much time for Sid.

There’s one week left, when Geno slips into the locker room while Sid’s still in the middle of the media scrum. It was a hard away win against the Caps, and Sid’s still exhausted, but the media’s going at him hard. He meets Geno’s eyes over one of the reporter’s shoulders—he doesn’t make a face because he’s on camera, but Geno will know what it means.

He answers and answers and answers, and at least it’s a win and away so it’s not as bad. This is the part of the job he hates, though at least these are hockey reporters and don’t generally do things like ask about the Bachelor.

Finally, he’s done, and Jen herds them all out. Geno waits until it’s just team in the locker room before he comes over to Sid, drops into the stall next to him. “Good?” he asks, nodding at Sid’s ankle. He’d taken a bad hit in the second that had made it twinge.

Sid rolls hit out, testing his body. “Yeah,” he tells Geno. Geno gives him a look like he’s tempted to test that himself, but he refrains himself. “What’s up?”

“I’m thinking, movie?” Geno suggests. “Unless you’re going out with team.”

Sid glances around. Everyone looks tired. One week, Sid remembers.

“No, a movie’s good,” he agrees. “We can get room service.”

“Yes, room service good,” Geno agrees.

They’re back in the hotel and Geno’s fiddling with the TV to see what they can watch when Sid gets a text.

 _Sid! Buy me drink to make up for beating me?_ Ovie’s texted.

Sid snorts. “What?” Geno asks, offhand.

“Ovechkin,” Sid explains. “He wants to get a drink.”

“Oh.” Geno’s voice goes a little sharp. “You want to go? Movie can wait.”

Maybe Sid should, to wean himself off Geno. But he looks up, and Geno’s standing by the TV, his shoulders held tight like it really wouldn’t be okay to go get a drink with Ovie instead, like he wants to spend time with Sid too and—

“No, I’m good,” Sid replies, and texts Ovie as much.

“Good.” Geno decides on something, then throws himself on the bed. They’ve been in and out of each other’s rooms for years; Sid doesn’t hesitate to sit down next to him.

Geno had settled on some mindless action movie, which is about how much Sid wants to think right now; he lets the movie sink in around him, and the warmth of Geno next to him, and the soft sounds of Geno reacting to the movie. It’s so easy. It can’t be this easy for Geno with his fiancé; it’s never been this easy with anyone else before.

For a second, as the movie winds down, Sid lets himself pretend. That this is what they do; that he can move over and press properly against Geno’s side and breathe in his scent, and then when the movie’s over he could kiss Geno properly. And then in the morning, he’d kiss Geno awake and they’d go home and bicker about proper nutrition and whether Sid was too reckless with his body and it would be this easy, all the time.

“Sid.” Geno’s voice is barely a whisper over the credits on screen. Sid has to lean over to hear him, so his head is basically resting on Geno’s shoulder.

“Yeah?” His voice isn’t any louder. He looks up to meet Geno’s eyes, and in the shadows they look dark and endless, and Sid—he’s never let himself want and this is why, because it’s a floodgate when he lets himself. 

“Will you watch the finale with me, next week?”

Everything crashes. Sid wills himself not to move—he won’t make it weird for Geno. But the pretend crashes around him, and this is why he doesn’t let himself hope for things he can’t have, because this hurts too much. Geno’s engaged. In a week, he’ll see Geno propose to someone.

But Geno wants him to, and Sid doesn’t have a good reason to say no, so, “Yeah,” he agrees. He swallows. “We could put together a watch party, and—”

“No,’ Geno cuts him off. His voice sounds loud and harsh, but then he softens it. “No, just us.”

“Oh.” Sid can see how it would be awkward, to have everyone there. “Yeah, sure. You want to come over?”

“Yes.” Geno ducks his head so their foreheads are resting together. “Yes, good.”

Engaged, Sid reminds himself. God, he’s such a horrible person. Geno’s being a friend, and Sid’s pretending.

He’ll stop. He takes a deep breath. He will stop. It’ll be easier when it’s concrete, when he knows who it is, can put a face to who Geno chose over him.

“Next week,” Sid says, a confirmation. “Excited?”

“Yes. Nervous.”

Sid chuckles. “You already did the hard part, right? Now you just get the…” he waves his hand. “The happily ever after.”

Geno stays tucked close to Sid, enough that it feels like their breath is mingling. “Ready for that.”

“Good.” Sid will not be a shitty person. He refuses to be. “You deserve it.” They’re so close. Geno’s engaged. If Sid moved, if he—Geno’s engaged, and he’s friendly, and Sid _won’t_.

Sid rolls away, off the bed. “I, uh. Bathroom,” he says, and does something that feels a lot like fleeing.

In the bathroom, he braces himself on the counter and looks down into the sink. Tries not to think about Geno’s shocked, confused face when Sid moved away. One more week. He can last one more week.

///

“Are you even going to watch the finale?” Tanger asks Sid, a few days later. They’re lacing up for practice, and Sid focuses harder than he has for decades on the task.

“Yeah, actually. I’m watching with Geno.”

“With Geno?” Tanger repeats. “Doesn’t he have to go be on TV for it?”

Sid shrugs. “He asked.”

“Really.” Tanger draws out the word. “So you haven’t watched anything else?”

“No. I guess I’ll go into it blind.”

“Yeah,” Tanger agrees, with the mock sadness he uses to tease Sid when he thinks he’s being particularly hockey-obsessed. “You really will.”

///

Sid might not know anything about the Bachelor, but he’s been in the world enough to know what goes into a watch party. He picks out some wine, and because he thinks he deserves it, gets some cookies too. He’ll go back on his diet plan tomorrow.

Geno shows up ten minutes to eight, with a bottle of wine and looking camera-ready.

“If anyone’s filming in here, you’re never allowed back in,” Sid warns as he lets him in.

“Filming?” Geno looks around, like he honestly expected Sid to let a camera crew into his house ever again.

“You look—nice,” Sid explains. Geno goes a little red.

“Thanks,” He mutters. “You look nice too.”

Sid is wearing jeans and a henley. He doesn’t look any nicer than usual. But Geno is being unusually polite, which he generally likes to encourage, so, “Thanks.”

“So short, sometimes hard to see,” Geno keeps going, and Sid laughs. There he is. “But still nice.”

“Yeah, yeah. Say that to my face.”

“Can’t lean down far enough,” Geno retorts, and they’re both laughing as they go into the living room.

Geno’s laughter dies, when he sees the screen, on and turned to ABC—Chris Harrison is already talking, saying, “Tonight—the most dramatic finale yet!”

“Oh, dramatic,” Sid jokes. “Geno, did you mess up the proposal?”

Geno holds out the bottle of wine. “We open?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Sid opens the wine, then settles in. Chris Harrison is talking up the finale, how dramatic it’s going to be—Geno is staring at the screen like he doesn’t see it—then they go to the show.

If it wasn’t Geno, Sid can see a little how he’d get into this. He’s a pretty judgmental person, he’s been told, and he can the fun, watching the dates. As it is, with Geno on the screen and Geno next to him, tense, it’s…weird.

There are two people left, apparently, a man—Geoff—and a woman—Kelly. They both are startlingly attractive, Kelly one of the tiny blondes Geno tends to like, Geoff a dark haired, stocky guy with muscles Sid can admire and a tattoo sleeve. They seem nice enough, and watching the flashbacks, they have chemistry with Geno.

It’s not that bad, really, Sid decides. He can handle this. He’s handled watching Geno date other people for years. Maybe it’ll be worse, after these few months of having Geno all to himself, basically, but it’s fine.

The episode starts in Mexico, where the show’s flown Geno’s parents. Both contestants coming are very sweet with Geno’s family, though Kelly seems stiff and isn’t great at handling the language barrier and Geoff is clearly very aware of the politics of the situation.

Geoff is so clearly worried that about halfway through, Geno’s mom puts a hand on his arm. “Do not be so worried,” she says slowly, choosing her words carefully. She’s gotten better at English, but even she and Sid still communicate in a pidgin mix of English, what Russian Sid’s picked up, and hand motions.“We love Zhenya, love anyone Zhenya loves.”

“I do love him,” Geoff says. On screen, Geno smiles at him. “And he’s always said how supportive you were of him. But sometimes it’s different, when it’s not your son.”

She smiles gently. “Zhenya bring home boyfriends before,” she explains. “And his best friend, he gay, he bring boyfriends too. Is not a problem.”

“Good.” Geoff smiles. “Can you say anything about his best friend? He talks about Sidney a lot.”

Next to Sid, Geno makes a small noise. On camera, Geno rolls his eyes, laughs.

“He is my best friend! Of course I talk about him.”

“Hush, Zhenya,” his mother scolds. “Sidney is very nice boy. Too…” she turns to Geno, says something in Russian, to which Geno’s father responds with a laugh. Geno’s laughing too, as he adds in a word.

Sid nudges Geno. “I know that word. That’s when she thinks I’m too obsessed.”

Geno pats him on the knee. “Glad you learning Russian.”

“Focused,” Geno tells Geoff.

Sid huffs out a breath.

“That’s not an insult.”

“Not mean it like one,” Geno replies.

“Well, I hope he’ll like me,” Geoff says on screen.

Geno’s parents exchange a look. “He likes whoever’s best for Zhenya,” Geno’s dad says.

“Yeah, so if you be mean, he send whole hockey team to beat you up!” Geno on camera jokes, and Geoff laughs and leans into Geno’s side.

Kelly’s quieter, but she charms Geno’s father completely, and her grandmother is Russian so that gives her automatic points. She talks about cooking Russian food with her grandmother as a kid, and Sid can see how Geno looks at her at that, the fondness.

Geno has the same expression next to him, watching the screen—half a smile. Sid’s not sure who won, but he thinks he likes Kelly better. She seems like she gets Geno more, understands the loud and the quiet in him, the anger and the determination.

Then she leaves, and it’s just Geno and his parents. Someone—Sid’s betting Geno—talked the producers into letting them speak in Russian, and subtitling it.

“They’re both very nice,” Geno’s mom starts, with a look at his father. “They both love you a lot.”

Geno on screen nods. “I know. I love them too…” He trails off, sounding unsure.

“But?” Geno’s dad fills in.

“But, I’m not sure,” Geno confesses. Sid glances to the side. Geno’s got his face set, and his turning his wine glass around in his hands. “Marriage is a lot. And I can’t help but wonder…”

“Marriage is a big commitment,” Geno’s father agrees. “And not one to be made lightly.”

“You shouldn’t propose if you don’t mean it,” his mother adds. “But you knew that when you came on the show. What changed?”

Geno shakes his head, not looking at his parents or the camera. “I wish Sid could have met them.”

His mom puts a hand on his knees as it goes to commercial.

Sid looks over at Geno. “If you wanted me to come that badly, I would have.”

“I know.” Geno lets out a long breath, then looks at Sid. “I didn’t know I needed, before.” He shakes his head, like he had on screen. “I didn’t know a lot of things.”

Sid takes a sip of wine. Geno gets up to pour more wine into his glass, and when he sits down, he’s a little closer to Sid.

Sid looks back at the screen. It’s onto their last dates, and it confirms Sid’s thoughts, though he tries to keep an open mind. Geoff seems fine, but he’s even higher energy than Geno, and he seems like he won’t push back like Geno needs. Geno does seem to like making out with him, though, as becomes clear halfway through their date.

Sid’s breath catches when that starts happening—that’s something he never needed to see, needed to know. Geno in the room makes a harsh noise.

“Sorry,” he says. “Is weird, we can stop—”

“Isn’t it weirder for you?” Sid forces out.

“Little bit,” Geno admits. “Not often you see yourself kiss.”

“We can critique your technique, if you want,” Sid asks, before he thinks. “Like—” then he hears himself, and stops talking.

But it’s too late. “Like video review?” Geno fills in. His eyes are glinting—they both know this is chirping material for months. “We get ipad, can go over after kiss. No, less tongue here, more teeth—”

“Fuck off, I’m trying to help!” Sid protests, and grabs a pillow from behind him to throw at Geno. Geno catches it and tucks it behind him.

“Not need your help with kissing,” he says, his eyes glinting, and—Sid must be imagining, how Geno’s gaze goes to his lips. Engaged, he repeats to himself. He’ll see that, soon. He’s clearly into both Geoff and Kelly.

“I don’t know. Everything can be improved,” Sid says, though Geoff clearly agrees with Geno.

Kelly’s date is at a petting zoo, which Sid thinks is an unfair advantage to her. She clearly loves the animals too, and they spend a lot of time talking about what pets they want. They both agree on ‘as many as possible.’

“Is hard, though,” Geno says, as they pet an alpaca. “I travel a lot.”

“Having someone waiting at home would help,” Kelly says. She looks up at Geno through her lashes.

Geno smiles at her, that same fond smile. “But then, that person stuck at home, and it would be so long without them! Would want to travel with them.”

Her smile twists, but then it steadies. “Well, I’m glad I got to travel with you now,” she says, and then they’re kissing too.

Geno’s phone is buzzing on the table. He’s very clearly ignoring it.

“You’re probably popular tonight,” Sid asks gently.

Geno nods. “Everyone got something to say.”

“Want to put it on do not disturb?” Geno shrugs. He’s always been good at ignoring distractions.

It’ll annoy Sid if he knows that so many people are waiting for a response, so he reaches for it, meaning just to switch it to do not disturb. It takes Geno a second too long to realize what he’s doing, and even though he lunges for it Sid’s reflexes are literally world class, and he gets a hold on it.

He has a second to see the top text: from ‘Kelly,’ and a message of _did you do it yet???_ before Geno’s snatched it away.

“Oh,” Sid says, and drops back into the couch. Geno fusses furiously with his phone then literally throws it over his shoulder, which on another night Sid would make fun of him for, but he can’t process it. “So it’s Kelly, then.”

“Sid, I—” Geno shuts his mouth, then opens it again, then shuts it. “Keep watching.”

“Yeah.” Sid nods mechanically. That’s it. He knows. He’s happy for Geno. He will be happy—no, he is. She seems great. Sid still thinks getting engaged after six weeks is weird, but they seem happy, and that’s what matters.

They’ve gone to commercial, so Sid watches the Disneyland commercial with a blank gaze. He has to get it together. He won’t be this.

“She seems really nice,” he says. He can hear it in his media voice, like after a bad loss. Which this isn’t. It’s not a bad loss, it’s—a loss in an All-Star game, to friends. Not a loss that counts, or a game that really has winners.

“She is,” Geno agrees, “But—have to watch, Sid.”

The show’s back. Geno picks out a ring, and he seems confident, though Sid can see that he didn’t sleep well. This probably isn’t a good set up for Geno, who always goes with his gut; he’d be better at the last minute choice than these hours of deliberation.

Then it’s the proposals. Sid pours himself more wine. He can’t look at Geno next to him, can only look at Geno on screen. That Geno is pacing a little, as the car pulls up—and Geoff gets out.

It is Kelly, then. Sid watches Geoff get his heart broken, numb. Geoff has it much worse, clearly; he has to say that shit on TV, and he thought he really had a chance.

“You could have cut him off sooner,” Sid says, when on screen Geno does.

“Not that easy,” Geno replies flatly.

“Not that—he had to say all that shit, _on camera_. That’s so humiliating. What if he—”

“Is nicer, okay?” Geno snaps back. “Let him say it, make sure he knows I’m listening, I’m caring. Not everyone like you Sid, wants to hide from cameras all the time.”

“I know, but—”

“And now he gets moment of fame, and gets to go on Bachelor in Paradise and meet nice boy,” Geno goes on. “Not—don’t be mad at this. This how show works.”

“So I’m going to get mad later?”

Geno groans and drops his head back. “Just watch, Sid.”

The camera pans out on Geoff leaving, then switches to Chris Harrison in the live studio. “Heartbreaking,” he says, shaking his head. “Coming up next—the final rose. But is that the end for our bachelor? And after that, our special guests are here to spill all the dirt!” The camera switches back to Geno, standing alone on the mountaintop, then cuts to commercial.

Sid lets out a long breath. He’s not mad, really. “I know Geoff knew what he was getting into,” he says, trying to piece it together. “And it’s not your fault. It just—that might be my worst nightmare.”

“I know.” Geno lifts his head. “You not like cameras. Not like all this.” He waves at the TV. “You’re—different.”

Sid chuckles. “Can you imagine me on the Bachelor though?”

“No,” Geno snaps. Then he lets out a breath. “You be worst Bachelor ever.”

“I know.” Sid turns his wine in his hand. “Are you supposed to be in LA, though? Tanger said something about that.”

“I fly out tomorrow,” Geno admits. “Very early. Going to be more show, after.”

“Why not tonight?” Sid asks, as the show comes back on.

Geno shakes his head. “Watch.”

“I don’t—”

“Sid.” Geno sets down his wine glass, then leans over and takes Sid’s hand. His hands are even bigger than Sid’s, calloused, capable. Sid freezes. “Just watch, please? I explain after.”

Engaged, Sid reminds himself, yet again. To Kelly, who he seems to love. This is—Sid doesn’t know what this is, but Geno’s engaged, so it can’t be what it seems like.

Geno’s still on that mountaintop, and Kelly steps out of the limo. She’s gorgeous, and when Geno takes her hand, Sid can see how good they look together. He looks down at where Geno’s still holding his hand. It’s different. He’s not sure how, but it is.

Kelly makes her speech, and it’s a good speech. Sid could love her a little for it, for loving Geno that much. Geno’s clearly affected, on screen; he looks gobsmacked.

“I—” he says on screen, then shakes his head, and tugs Kelly closer, ducks his head to whisper in her ear. The cameras pan around, circling, as they whisper to each other. Then she steps away from Geno. There are tears in her eyes, but she’s smiling, and she kisses Geno’s cheek before she pulls her hands away, and walks down the hill alone. 

“What?” Sid says. Geno’s hand convulses on his. “What are you—”

“I’m not going to LA tonight,” Geno starts, “Because I hadn’t said this yet, and I know you never forgive me if I say it on camera first.”

“What?” Sid says again. “You didn’t—you didn’t propose?”

Geno shakes his head. “I didn’t propose.”

“But—you have to propose. It’s the Bachelor!”

“I know. I mean to.” Geno looks down at where his hands are wrapped around Sid’s. “Right until she step out, I mean to.”

Chris Harrison is talking on the TV. Sid can’t pay any attention. “So—why didn’t you?” He follows Geno’s gaze down to their hands. Geno’s _not_ engaged. He’s not engaged, and he’s been taking Sid out for dinner and going out with him and he’s holding Sid’s hands, and suddenly everything is shifting. “Geno, what is this?”

The shot pans in on Geno. He’s gotten a phone from somewhere, and it zooms in enough that you can see the text, though not who it’s to. _Will be home soon_ , it says. _Miss you_.

Sid knows that text. That text is on Sid’s phone.

“I’m not propose,” Geno says slowly, “Because all that day, that night—all show—I realize—always something holding me back. Always something missing, even with Geoff, Kelly—people I love. And I loved them, I did, but—it wasn’t everything. Wasn’t like it should be. Something else there.” He looks up, and it’s the same way he’s been looking at Sid for months, and he’s not engaged. “Someone else there. Didn’t know before, didn’t even think—you were always there, why would I? But then you not there, and I realize…can’t be with anyone else, if there was even the possibility of being with you. Had to know.”

“Geno,” Sid breathes. An HVAC commercial is playing.

“So I come back, decide—have to try, and is weird, I know, because you think I’m engaged and if I say anything, break contract but also—” Geno’s mouth twists “—not sure if you believe me, so I…see.”

“Geno,” Sid says again. He hadn’t even considered this. Geno’s not engaged. Geno’s not engaged because he came back for Sid.

“And of course I’m not sure, don’t want you to feel like you have to, but—had to know. And, I think….” Geno smiles at Sid, hopeful. His hands are still around Sid’s, like he couldn’t bear to let go. “Think it seems like, maybe you feel the same way?”

“Geno.” Sid turns his hands over in Geno’s grip, so he can interlace their fingers. Seeing Geno’s eyes light up at that is worth all of his angst for the last few months. “Fuck, of course, yes. You idiot, I’ve been into you since like, 2012.”

“What?” Geno asks, but Sid’s done with this shit, he’s already climbing onto the couch to kiss him.

There are no cameras on them; no music swell or romantic setting. Geno’s elbow digs uncomfortably into Sid’s side and their noses bang together awkwardly and Sid almost bites his own tongue off. It’s exactly what Sid wants.

“2012?” Geno asks again, when they surface. He’s looking significantly more ruffled, and his eyes are dazed. It’s a good look on him. Sid’s pretty happy with it. He probably doesn’t look much better, given how Geno’s looking at him, all smug.

Sid raises his eyebrows back. “You tricked me into dating you,” he points out.

Geno laughs. On screen, someone else is laughing; Kelly’s there, talking to Chris Harrison.

“It was a surprise,” she says, but she’s composed. “But I think it was the right move, for both of us.”

“So you know why he did it? Or, didn’t do it?” Chris Harrison asks. Kelly smiles. She has a very nice smile, Sid allows, still holding Geno’s hand.

“I do,” she says, and gives a smile like the cat gotten into the cream.

Chris Harrison looks at the camera. “And that’s it for tonight, folks! Join us tomorrow for a very special after the final rose, when Geno will be here with us live!”

“You’re going to LA tomorrow?” Sid asks. He doesn’t want Geno to leave.

“Not until tomorrow,” Geno points out, and wraps a hand around Sid’s waist to pull him back in.

///

Apparently, watching this actual last episode of the Bachelor as a team is non-optional, so Sid shows up to Tanger’s with sixpack and some strategically hidden hickeys on his chest. Geno had left inhumanely early that morning, but Sid has been getting texts from him even more than usual, and he knows that he’s in the studio getting into makeup.

Most of the team is there, because it’s an excuse to get together and because everyone’s oddly invested in the Bachelor. Sid takes the edge of the couch, crammed in next to Phil, and leans back with his best media neutral face on.

Chris Harrison comes on, and gives a quick rehash of the last episode, then it goes live, with Geno on the couch. He looks good, like always, in his crisp suit; only Sid knows the marks beneath it, that his fingers and mouth had made. He likes that.

“So, Geno.” Chris takes a breath. “That was a big reveal.”

“Yes.” Geno gives his most charmingly sheepish smile.“I know many people mad at me.”

“I think you broke more hearts than just Kelly’s,” Chris agrees, and Geno makes a face.

“Oh, fuck off!” Jamie yells at the screen. “He already feels bad about it!”

“Shut up,” Phil tells him, but Sid makes a note to buy Jamie a drink.

“Yes, I know. And Kelly great girl, we’re still friends, I wish her all the best.”

“So if she’s so great…” Chris Harrison leans in. “Why’d you do it?”

Sid turns the bottle. Geno takes a breath. They’d talked about this, and Sid had set his boundaries, but it’s still not easy. Worth it, for Geno—and it’s not like Geno isn’t compromising too, with Sid’s life—but not easy.

“I had to go with my heart,” Geno answers easily, easily enough that Sid knows he rehearsed this. From what Geno’s said of the show, he might have even rehearsed this with Chris Harrison. “And I realized that, no matter how great Kelly is—how great all the contestants are—someone else was in my heart more.”

Tanger makes a sound across the couch. Sid glares. He smirks.

“Oh really?” Chris Harrison asks. “So, then what happened?”

“I knew, I couldn’t get engaged, knowing that. So I went home.” There’s some noise in the room, as everyone starts figuring it out. “And we work it out. I have to woo him, for a change!” That gets a laugh. “But it all good.”

“So, do we get to know who this mystery man is?” Chris Harrison asks.

Geno laughs at him. “I think you already figure it out,” he replies, and Chris Harrison chuckles and cues the screen. The room explodes into the noise.

Sid’s lived a lot of his life on camera, to some degree or another. He’s always known that. But he hasn’t watched most of that, and he hasn’t watched the show, so he hadn’t realized just how much footage they have to choose from, in the montage.

But there they are—in video from team’s and fan’s social media, from Sid’s documentary, from game footage. Sid leaning into Geno to talk, them laughing, them shoving either playfully as they walk down a hallway. Geno’s hands, gentle on Sid’s leg as he checks for an injury. And then there’s things from the show—Sid hadn’t realized quite how much he came up. Or how Geno had looked, when he talked about home, about Sid. He sees what Tanger meant now.

“I fucking told you!” Tanger yells, over the hubbub. Sid just keeps watching the screen.

“He very camera shy,” Geno explains. The montage is still showing, but it’s zoomed so they can see Geno and Chris Harrison too. “Hockey player, you know—better at sports than talking. But said I could say.” Geno leans in, conspiratorial. “I think he wants world to know I’m taken.”

That gets a laugh in the studio, and a louder one in the room. No one seems really surprised. Maybe Sid shouldn’t be shocked about that.

But Geno’s not done. “Is good, of course,” he goes on, smirking. “I want world to know he’s taken too.”

“Go Sid! Get some!”

“Have some respect, he’s not getting some, they’re making love.”

“Did you see G’s face? They really aren’t.”

Sid knows he’s bright red, but he doesn’t care. Maybe there is something to this camera thing—having someone declaring their love for you on live TV feels pretty good.

“Is that why he wouldn’t come on to talk to us?” Chris Harrison asks. “Or talk to us at all, during the show?”

“You should have, Sid!”

“So many people are going to come to our games now,” Phil points out, half in awe. “Your scrums are going to be awful.”

“I know,” Sid mutters. He is really not looking forward to that.

“Well, he big hockey star, too busy for TV show,” Geno says. “But he does say I can show you this.”

The camera zooms into the screen. It’s a shitty phone camera video, set up on a table sometime when Sid was trying to find them food. Sid’s coming back into the room when the video starts, and Geno’s standing in front of the couch, one hand behind his back.

“Sid,” he says, very seriously, his eyes dancing. “I have important question.”

Sid rolls his eyes, but the camera does nothing to hide his fondness. It’s enough that Sid forgets that he’s just in his jeans and Henley, with his hair messy enough that it’s clear what they’d been doing. He doesn’t look anything like those Bachelor contestants. But it doesn’t matter. Geno chose him. “What?”

Geno brings out his hand, and holds out a rose. “Will you accept my final rose?” he asks, and he’s so clearly trying not to laugh that Sid punches his arm.

“I don’t need a damn rose,” Sid declares, and pushes Geno back into the couch. The camera cuts out as the rose flutters to the ground, forgotten.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Liked it? Want to talk about it? Comment or come chat on [ tumblr!](http://fanforthefics.tumblr.com/)


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